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<title>Why I Hate Izaya Orihara: An Essay by Shizuo Heiwajima by TeamAlphaQ</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24796390">Why I Hate Izaya Orihara: An Essay by Shizuo Heiwajima</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamAlphaQ/pseuds/TeamAlphaQ'>TeamAlphaQ</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Durarara!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, But only a little, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, I promise I was nice this time, M/M, Shizuo has a problem with making lists, What Have I Done, buckets of fluff</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 11:01:54</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,269</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24796390</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamAlphaQ/pseuds/TeamAlphaQ</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <span class="u">
    <b>Problems Shizuo Currently Has; A Comprehensive List In No Particular Order</b>
  </span>
</p><p>1. The door on the fridge won’t close properly. (It’s beginning to get annoying, he needs to get that looked at.)<br/>
2. Summer is fucking hot. He swears the nose cushions on his sunglasses have left a searing brand on his nose that he’s never going to get rid of.<br/>
3. Izaya. (Need he say more.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Heiwajima Shizuo/Orihara Izaya</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>208</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Why I Hate Izaya Orihara: An Essay by Shizuo Heiwajima</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatTheFridgeDude/gifts">WhatTheFridgeDude</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay so I wrote this all in one day after being hit with a bolt of inspiration this morning and I have zero regrets.</p><p>This is for WhatTheFridgeDude. I hope you don't mind me gifting the story to you because it's you who inspired it and thus it is indeed for you!</p><p>The prompt was: They aren't like secretly together but the parkour chases end up in dark alleys, and when Shizuo is out of food he might coincidentally chase Izaya all the way back to his house, and the chasing just becomes an excuse for them to spend time together. But they're still enemies, just with more snark and less punch. And then of course domestic fluff and then ;) if you get me.</p><p>Admittedly I let it get a little away with me.</p><p>Enjoy~</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Shizuo Heiwajima hates Izaya Orihara because-</em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>If he were going to write an essay on the topic, this is probably about as far as he would get before giving up, because honestly, how could he possibly condense all of those negative thoughts and feelings into any sort of ordered format? </p><p>It’s impossible, and he isn’t going to try.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Problems Shizuo Currently Has; A Comprehensive List In No Particular Order</b> </span>
</p><ol>
<li>The door on the fridge won’t close properly. (It’s beginning to get annoying, he needs to get that looked at.)</li>
<li>Summer is fucking <em>hot</em>. He swears the nose cushions on his sunglasses have left a searing brand on his nose that he’s never going to get rid of.</li>
<li>Izaya. (Need he say more.)</li>
</ol><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>Shizuo’s was never one for writing essays. It’s common knowledge that he scraped by in highschool and never even attempted college, despite his younger brother’s silent encouragement for him to do so. If you were to ask him, he’d be bluntly honest and say he didn’t remember a thing from his whole tenure at Raira Academy.</p><p>Among the many things he never learned was formal writing, or writing of any kind for that matter. Essays especially had been the bane of his existence. He’d never been able to sit still long enough to draw out a single thought for several pages <em> and </em> reference other people’s long drawn out thoughts <em> and </em> actually tie it all together at the end in any cohesive way.</p><p>
  <em> That being said- </em>
</p><p>If Shizuo had been asked for his thesis statement for an essay on why he hated Izaya Orihara, this moment right here would have definitely been one of his cited references he’d have crammed into the resulting dissertation.</p><p>Currently, the raven-haired man is sitting on Shizuo’s counter-top. A knife rests in one hand, and several kabob skewers are delicately held in the other. Shizuo can understand the gleaming blade, can even accept that he shouldn’t have left his window open that morning even though it had been sweltering and he still hasn’t remembered to call about his broken air-conditioning unit.</p><p>What he can’t understand is why Izaya’s offering him one of the skewers.</p><p>“They’re very good,” Izaya informs him knowledgeably from around a mouthful of unidentifiable meat. “I hardly ever bother with street vendors, my tastes are <em> far </em> too refined, but you’d appreciate something this crude, Shizu-chan.”</p><p>“Didn’t I chase you out of my city an hour ago?”</p><p>Shizuo asks the question like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop, because in all reality, he is.</p><p>Swallowing his bite, Izaya <em> tsks </em> under his breath and waves the food in Shizuo’s direction a little more insistently. “Yes but I came back, keep up Shizu-chan.”</p><p>It strikes Shizuo eventually, somewhere after the third or fourth other thought that occurs to him after he accepts the skewer, that he really fucking hates Izaya. Admittedly, the thought comes after <em> Wow, this meat really is good, I hope it isn’t poisoned, </em> and <em> Heh, the Flea looks like a dumbass with sauce on his cheeks, </em> but he’d like to make it clear that he does think it at some point.</p><p>Unfortunately, he only remembers this fact after he’s eaten three of the four kabobs Izaya brought with him. If he’d paid <em> any </em> attention in literature class, Shizuo might have likened it to Persephone and those goddamn pomegranate seeds. But he hadn’t, so he doesn’t.</p><p>They really are pretty good, and it saves him from yet another bowl of Instant Ramen.</p><p>Eventually, he chases Izaya out of his apartment, almost destroying his countertop in the process, but the true damage is already done. After the impromptu visit, Shiuzo’s convinced that he’s definitely <em> not </em> going to have a good evening. The Raven probably knew that, which is why he showed up in the first place, obviously.</p><p>Resolved to actually kill Izaya next time he sees the man, Shizuo turns in early and tries not to drown in the humid, un-air-conditioned evening air.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><em> Shizuo Heiwajima hates Izaya Orihara because, </em><em>for as </em><em>long as they’ve known each other, Izaya has strived to make his life </em> <strike><em> difficult </em></strike> <em> unlivable in every conceivable way and at a certain point, there is just no forgiving and forgetting.</em></p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>A Continuing List Of Problems Shizuo Currently Has; Still In No Particular Order</b> </span>
</p><ol>
<li>He needs to get the air conditioning fixed before he dies of heat stroke. Though if it’s a choice between heat stroke and dealing with whatever the fuck is going on with Izaya, Shizuo was going to choose the former every time.</li>
<li>Speaking of Izaya, that’s still a problem. An even bigger problem than usual.</li>
<li>His kitchen faucet is leaking now. (He hit it during a tussle with Izaya and it’s yet another problem he has to deal with now. Fuck this shit.)</li>
</ol><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>He’s pretty sure this is <em> definitely </em> a problem when Izaya complains about him changing the damn channel on his own TV. Why the fuck Izaya is here, sitting next to him on the couch, bouncing up and down like a hyperactive child is <em> beyond him </em> but it’s going to be an issue if the man thinks he can tell Shizuo what to watch.</p><p>“I was enjoying that show, Shizu-chan,” Izaya complains, puffing out his cheeks like a puffer-fish.</p><p>Shizuo’s eyebrow ticks so long and slow that he’s convinced he’s developed some sort of charlie horse right above his eye. “I wasn’t interested in it,” he says, very deliberately, as if he’s explaining this to a kid.</p><p>Considering the pout that instantly crosses Izaya’s face, Shizuo’s pretty sure the comparison isn’t far off the mark. “You’re ruining it for me, you monster!” It’s the least venomous that insult has ever sounded. “Couldn’t you see, the judge was just about to deliver the verdict! They can’t possibly convict her, it was all a setup, the jury has to know that.”</p><p>Shizuo’s jaw is set, and he’s really trying not to throw Izaya at any of the conveniently available walls around them, if only for the sake of his apartment. “I don’t care about your damn soap operas, Flea,” he spits instead, trying to make it very clear what he thinks of Izaya’s antics with words instead of violence. “My brother’s new movie is coming on in five minutes and I don’t want to miss it.”</p><p>“I should cut your cables so you can’t watch anything,” Izaya sulks, and Shizuo sees in those crimson eyes that the man really would do it. It’s a shocking reminder of how much they hate each other when they aren’t doing this weird <em> thing. </em></p><p>Among other things, it’s a glaring reminder of why they really need to stop.</p><p>So he speaks accordingly. He’s never had a problem with speaking his mind before and that certainly isn’t going to change now just because Izaya’s being a different kind of asshat than usual.</p><p>“If you don’t like it you can get out.”</p><p>Hotly, Izaya shoots to his feet, his delicate nose turning up in the air and his words taking on a razor’s edge. “You know Shizu-chan, that’s a fantastic idea. I think I will <em> get out </em> as you so delicately put it. It’s getting late and I hardly want to be spending my time with a neanderthal like you.”</p><p>On their face, the insults are very typical, but the way he says them gets under Shizuo’s skin in a new and unpleasant way. </p><p>“Get out or I’ll <em> throw </em> you out,” he growls, the anger going straight to his nerve endings like a shot of adrenaline.</p><p>As if he’d never been there, Izaya vanishes, his black, fur trimmed jacket rustling around his shoulders as he does so.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>Twenty minutes later, the TV shuts off. Nothing else in Shizuo’s house seems affected, but this much is slight enough. It’s not like he was in a good enough head space to watch Kasuka’s movie in the first place, but now he can’t even if he wants to. It’s just the sort of vindictive and spiteful thing he expects from Izaya and Shizuo hates it.</p><p>When he goes to get a glass of milk from his refrigerator, he struggles for a full three minutes to get the door to close before letting out a roar of frustration and breaking the handle off of the damn thing entirely, putting a dent in the cheap metal casing as he does so.</p><p>Sourly, he adds this to Izaya’s ever expanding lists of faults.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>A Further List of Issues Deliberately Ordered to Make Certain Problems Seem Less Terrible</b> </span>
</p><ol>
<ol>
<li>He has no idea what’s wrong with his TV and like all the other things that are falling apart in his life, he can’t be assed to fix it.</li>
<li>Someone decided to fuck with every traffic light in Ikebukuro, de-synchronizing them just enough that there’s been almost constant traffic and numerous crashes and he doesn’t know <em>why</em> it’s happened, he just knows that Izaya’s behind it.</li>
<li>The last one isn’t even his problem, he’s just been inconvenienced enough by the results to want to punch something.</li>
<li>His mental list of problems is getting too long and he has yet to do anything about any of them.</li>
<li><em>Izaya won’t stop showing up at his apartment.</em></li>
</ol>
</ol><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>Shizuo’s about to complain to no one in particular that the milk in his refrigerator has gone bad when Izaya plunks the new gallon on the counter-top, his eyes entirely focused on his phone as he does so.</p><p>“You could save that for baking,” Izaya comments as he flicks through his latest text messages, entirely unconcerned with what’s going on. “But we both know you’ve never successfully baked in your life, so on second thought it’s probably best you throw it away before it starts growing more protozoans like yourself.”</p><p>“Shut the fuck up,” Shizuo grumbles as he does as he’s been advised and tosses the sour milk into his trash. He would have chucked it at Izaya’s face, but there’s already a bruise on the informant’s face from the fight they’d had earlier that day and it makes him hesitate just enough to think twice.</p><p>Besides, the sour milk smell would have been unbearable in this oppressive heat.</p><p>Speaking of, Shizuo feels like dumping ice water over his head, the temperature is so high. If it weren’t so late in the day, he’d call someone about the air conditioning, but even if it weren’t late, he technically has company.</p><p>Thinking of Izaya as anything less than a pest he wants exterminated is enough to make Shizuo balk, and he instantly goes back to ruminating about the heat.</p><p><em> I wonder if Izaya even notices how hot it is. He always wears those long sleeved shirts, it’s like he wants to bake alive. </em> Shizuo’s about to continue this train of thought when he takes a second look at Izaya and it sputters out.</p><p>For once, the man is wearing a short sleeved shirt. It’s such a weird thing that Shizuo’s brain short circuits and he states, “What happened to your clothes?”</p><p>Izaya, for his part, quickly looks down at his shirt in confusion, before glaring at Shizuo accusingly. “Absolutely nothing, Shizu-chan. Is this your childish attempt to trick me?”</p><p>“No,” Shizuo states, belatedly realizing that he probably should have played it off as some kind of joke. “I’ve never seen you in a short sleeved shirt.”</p><p>“Nonsense,” Izaya disagrees, forgetting his phone in favor of their conversation, however stupid it is. “I used to wear them all the time at Raira, surely you saw me in them at least a <em> few </em> times.”</p><p>“I don’t remember much of high school,” Shizuo argues, feeling the sudden need to defend himself, even though it’s over something ridiculous. “How am I supposed to fucking know if you wore short sleeves or not, I never paid attention to your clothing.”</p><p>“Hmph,” Izaya scoffs, turning to the takeout that’s still sitting on the counter, next to the new gallon of milk Shizuo has yet to put away. “I paid plenty of attention to what you were wearing, Shizu-chan. Perhaps you’re just not observant enough.” After a moment’s consideration, he adds, “Why that surprises me, I’m not sure.”</p><p>Ignoring the majority of this monologue, Shizuo focuses on the small existential crisis he’s apparently having over Izaya’s attire. “Well why the hell are you wearing short sleeves now?”</p><p>Miffed, Izaya responds as though Shizuo’s inconvenienced him. “Becaaaause <em> someone </em> in this apartment hasn’t bothered to fix the air conditioning in the past three and a half weeks and I’m <em> hot.” </em> Suddenly, a malicious grin overtakes the Raven’s face. “Why, are my bare forearms too much for your little brain to handle?”</p><p>Said forearms are looking very breakable right now. Shizuo resists the urge, but only just barely.</p><p>“I’m going to throw you through the fucking window,” the blond warns.</p><p>Turning to face him, Izaya makes a <em> deliberate </em> show of stretching his bare arms above his head, allowing the tee-shirt he’s got on to hike up on him, showing off a taught stomach and the delicate V of his hips. To put it bluntly, it’s far too much flawless ivory skin on one person to be legal. “Before we’ve even had dinner Shizu-chan?” Izaya cooes, even though Shizuo has long since blue-screened and can’t put two coherent words together in response. “I must say, that’s a little savage even for you.”</p><p><em> Finally, </em> Izaya’s shirt settles back into place.</p><p>Without another word, Shizuo grabs the milk and forcefully shoves it into the refrigerator where the last gallon had sat, leaving a new dent in the door in the process.</p><p>It’s becoming nearly impossible to close.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>The next time he sees Izaya wandering through Ikebukuro, he sends the man flying over several parked cars. Grinning like he hadn’t just been punted, Izaya launches himself up off the pavement and leaves a few lovely new stab wounds in the blond’s torso. It’s enough to give Shizuo a headache, but at least he isn’t thinking about Izaya and his shirts anymore.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>A List That Has Long Since Gotten Out Of Hand</b> </span>
</p><ol>
<li>Izaya’s general existence is giving him a migraine, and unlike normal, this one can’t be solved with a cold glass of milk and a cigarette.</li>
<li>It definitely doesn’t help that the last two cartons of milk he’s gone through, Izaya had bought for him.</li>
</ol><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em>Shizuo Heiwajima hates Izaya Orihara because, recently, the man has been completely upsetting the known order of the world in every way, and Shizuo doesn’t have enough brain power to get his air conditioning fixed, let alone deal with Izaya capsizing something he’d held to be a foundation of his world for more years than he cares to count. </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>He’s not entirely sure how thesis statements are supposed to work, but he’s pretty sure they can only be one sentence long. Yet another thing he never really picked up in high school.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Things That Shizuo Really Needs to Get Fixed Eventually</b> </span>
</p><ol>
<li>The air conditioning. Before he melts. Seriously.</li>
<li>His fridge door, hopefully before his electricity bill gets too much higher.</li>
<li>The faucet. (Which is still leaking, he’s able to fill a whole bucket with water by the time he gets home after work.)</li>
<li>The TV. He’s still not sure what the fuck is wrong with it.</li>
<li>His bedroom door, after he knocked it off the hinges. (Again.)</li>
<li><strike>Izaya.</strike></li>
</ol><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>When he walks into his apartment next, he finds a repair-man working on his air-conditioning and Izaya sitting on his counter sucking on a lollipop.</p><p>“I hate sweets,” the man announces, pulling the half-dissolved heart-shaped sucker out of his mouth while Shizuo blinks at him blankly. Catching the blond’s look, Izaya proffers the candy that gleams faintly with saliva to him like it’s a present. “Do you want to finish it?”</p><p>This snaps him out of whatever trance he’s fallen into. “What? Fucking gross Flea, I don’t want your half eaten candy, fuck off.”</p><p>Finding this <em> endlessly </em> amusing for whatever god-forsaken reason, Izaya giggles helplessly, still waving the lollipop at him as though it’s supposed to entice him. “Oh come now, Shizu-chan. You wouldn’t want it to go to waste, would you?”</p><p>“Throw it away if you don’t want it,” Shizuo states flatly, his eyebrow twitching as a vein begins to pulse in his forehead.</p><p>“But it’d be <em> ever so much more convenient </em> if you just ate it,” the Raven chirps, red eyes glittering delightedly. “We all know you’re a dog who’d eat something off the pavement if you thought we wouldn’t look at you strangely. At least the only place this candy has been is my mouth.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Shizuo agrees, clearly seeing this as the main point of contention. “What if you’ve poisoned it.”</p><p>It takes him a few too many seconds to realize how dumb that sounds.</p><p>“With what, my saliva?” Snickering, Izaya mocks, “Does the protozoan fear that I have become a poisonous snake at last, able to kill you just by drooling on you wrong?”</p><p>“Don’t fucking drool on me, Izaya.”</p><p>Puffing out his cheeks, Izaya’s eyes curve up into half moons of absolute delight. “Just eat the lollipop, Shizu-chan.”</p><p>Ready to strangle the raven-haired man at last, Shizuo lunges across his apartment, only to have the sweet shoved unceremoniously into his mouth as Izaya slides out of his way. For a moment he’s absolutely disgusted. Izaya’s spit tastes like coffee and maybe sushi and definitely <em> not </em> something Shizuo wants to ingest if given half a choice. But a moment later, the flavor fades into the simple sweetness of the sucker.</p><p>Maybe he is a child, because he doesn’t pull it out of his mouth. He simply fumes and struggles not to break the edge of his counter-top off in his hand. Seemingly content with this, Izaya leans closer to Shizuo and pops the man’s sunglasses off of his face. The nose guards come unstuck from his skin in a horrible way that reminds the blond of how hot it is, which in turn brings his attention to the question he had when he first walked through the door.</p><p>“What is a repairman doing here?” Shizuo demands from around the stick of the sucker.</p><p>“Don’t ask stupid questions, Shizu-chan,” Izaya reprimands, and his tone is enough to make the blond feel momentarily chagrined, before it occurs to him that it <em> isn’t </em> a stupid question and this is his apartment and he has every right to know what’s going on.</p><p>Frustrated, he grunts, “I didn’t call him, why on earth is he here?”</p><p>“Because if <em> I </em> didn’t call him, then no one would have,” Izaya responds, rolling his eyes as he clicks Shizuo’s glasses closed and carefully tucks them into the blond’s front vest pocket. “And I’m getting tired of boiling alive, aren’t you?”</p><p>He is, not that he’s going to tell Izaya that. Glancing at the man properly, Shizuo takes in the now expected short sleeved shirt. Those will probably be going away, then, as soon as there is cool air in here.</p><p>Why he makes a note of this is beyond him and honestly, he’d rather not know the answer.</p><p>“You could have fucking asked.”</p><p>“Mmm,” Izaya hums doubtfully, kicking his feet lazily, brushing Shizuo’s thighs with his bare toes as he does.</p><p>Before Shizuo has the presence of mind to tell Izaya to keep his feet to himself, the air conditioning kicks on for the first time in a month and both of them let out involuntary sighs of relief. “Ahh, much better,” the Raven croons, leaning into the cold air gratefully. “I thought I was going to just <em> die, </em> Shizu-chan.” Pulling a sincere expression, he adds, “Can you imagine how <em> terrible </em> that would be?”</p><p>“Unfortunately, I can only imagine,” Shizuo mutters, before he can stop himself.</p><p>Unimpressed, Izaya's smile sours into something more like a grimace. “I’ll have you know that overheating isn’t good for brain cells.”</p><p>“I don’t care about your head, Flea,” Shizuo tells him testily, briefly mourning the end of the sucker in his mouth, which has been reduced to nothing but the soggy cardboard stick it was attached to.</p><p>“Oh I wasn’t talking about <em> my </em> brain,” Izaya assures him, his eyes glittering maliciously. “I have brain cells to spare. You on the other hand.” Clicking his tongue, he delicately mocks, “You are already down to two. It’d be a shame if you lost one of them.”</p><p>“It’d be a shame if I squashed you like the louse you are,” Shizuo retorts, entirely deadpan.</p><p>“So scary,” Izaya assures him, as though he needs to be reassured that he is, in fact, intimidating. “Though I must say, if you squash me now, you’ll get my insides all over your kitchen, and then you’ll be cleaning the mess up for days.” Shaking his head, the Raven continues, “Now that’s just poor planning.”</p><p>“Better than listening to your annoying ass all day,” the blond points out.</p><p>Cheekily, Izaya quips, “You love this ass.”</p><p>“Not when it’s on my fucking counter.”</p><p>Which definitely implies that he likes it at other times, which he doesn’t. That’s a stupid thing to think. And if Izaya brings it up, he’s going to strangle the man.</p><p>Thankfully, the repair-man clears his throat, causing both of them to slide apart as though they’d been caught doing something wrong. Frustration begins to bubble up in Shizuo’s gut, but he can’t pinpoint where it’s coming from or why, so he tries his best to ignore it. He needs a cigarette. The moment he’s not dealing with this repair bill that Izaya’s foisted unavoidably onto him, he’ll get one.</p><p>“Everything should be working,” the repair-man states, looking between the two of them a little blankly, as though he’s not sure what to make of them.</p><p>Before Shizuo can ask how much he owes, Izaya slides forward off the counter and sashays over to his coat, calling as he does so, “You were here for an hour and a half, yes? I don’t have cash on me, but I can deposit something into your account directly~”</p><p>Both the blond and the repair-man blink at Izaya blankly. The latter for obvious reasons, Izaya’s a strange person even at the best of times and right now he is simply oozing that irritating sort of flippancy that all rich people seem to possess.</p><p>Shizuo, for unfathomable reasons, finds himself watching the Raven’s hips as they sway hypnotically. He was definitely only kidding about Izaya’s ass earlier, so why is he so absolutely entranced? Apparently, his brain didn’t get the memo.</p><p>They shouldn’t have faxed it to him, the fax machine is probably broken along with everything else he owns.</p><p>This isn't normal. He must be sick. Heat stroke finally got to him.</p><p>Resolutely, Shizuo finally pulls the mushy sucker stick out of his mouth and throws it away, desperately scrubbing the image of the other man’s skinny-jean-clad ass from his mind as he does so.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>It’s only after Izaya leaves for the night that Shizuo realizes the full scope of what happened today. His air conditioning is finally fixed, and he hadn’t had to spend a penny on it.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Izaya; An Extensive but Hardly Complete List of Problems</b> </span>
</p><ol>
<li>Everything that is currently going wrong with his life can be directly tied back to Izaya. (And if he can’t make a direct connection, he can make a pretty good indirect one.)</li>
<li>For instance, why is Izaya still showing up in his apartment every few days when he has yet to give a good excuse for it?</li>
<li>Why hasn’t he killed the Flea for it?</li>
<li>And while we’re on the subject, why is Shizuo spending an increasing amount of time <em>dwelling</em> on these moments spent together when they definitely aren’t important and are more of a headache than anything else?</li>
</ol><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>“Why the hell would I play chess with you Izaya?” Shizuo demands, clenching his teeth around a cigarette and glaring across the couch at the Raven, who is still resolutely setting up the pieces on the board, as though he’s gone temporarily deaf.</p><p>He ruins the illusion a moment later by drawling, “Because Shizu-chan, I’m bored and you have yet to offer me a better alternative.”</p><p>“You could always leave,” Shizuo suggests, though there isn’t an ounce of bite behind the bark. If Izaya had gotten up to leave at that moment, he probably would have grumbled about it before asking the man to stay.</p><p>Thankfully, Izaya seems to read his tone, almost better than Shizuo can for himself. “My goodness, your creativity is boundless. I should ask you for ideas more often.”</p><p>“Here’s a suggestion for you,” the blond says, his lips pulling back into a dangerous grin. “We could watch TV. <em> Oh wait.” </em></p><p>The look Izaya shoots him is amused, and not ruffled in the slightest. “There’s nothing on,” he tells Shizuo, as if this is obvious. “Chess is so much more mentally stimulating.”</p><p>“For you maybe.” He <em> could </em> tell Izaya to fuck off, but the Raven had brought pizza, and it isn’t often he indulges in this particular food, so he holds his tongue. It really would be a shame if it ended up splattered all over the wall or something.</p><p>“Don’t tell me you don’t want to play because you’re worried I’ll beat you,” Izaya coos, like he’s talking to a baby.</p><p>Shizuo’s reaction, for whatever fucking reason, is to flick the man in the head. It’s not one of his usual flicks though, all this does is provoke a devilish laugh from the Raven. “Obviously you’ll beat me, Flea, I don’t even know how to play chess. The last time I touched this game was high school.”</p><p>“And we all know how little you remember from <em> those </em> years,” Izaya agrees, smirking.</p><p>Resolutely, he takes a drag of his cigarette and ignores the jab. Supposedly, he’s above this, or something. In reality, he knows that he hasn’t solved his temper problem and had tried to throw Izaya off of a building earlier that day, but here the man is. </p><p>No matter what he does to Izaya outside of this apartment, the man always comes back here, as though nothing happened. As though he finds the whole thing endlessly amusing.</p><p>“If I play a game with you, will you leave me alone?” Shizuo finally asks.</p><p>Gasping delightedly, Izaya claps his hands together. “Why Shizu-chan, you only had to ask!”</p><p>Izaya insists he plays as the white pieces, taking the black ones for himself. <em> Because it gives him the opportunity to go first, </em> he insists, his eyes glittering like there’s a whole lot more behind it. Honestly, the blond doesn’t care, he’s going to lose no matter what. </p><p>The chess set is all glass, Shizuo’s absolutely sure that he’s going to break at least a couple pieces before the night is over. But that doesn’t seem to deter the Raven in the slightest. Probably, he’ll find it funny when Shizuo inevitably has to get out the tweezers and pick glass out of his own fingers.</p><p>Shizuo makes his first move at random, and Izaya instantly counters, his eyes never leaving the blond’s face.</p><p>“This is dumb,” Shizuo sighs, moving another piece, not really caring one way or another.</p><p>“So it’s perfect for someone like you?” Izaya suggests lightly.</p><p>“What? Fucking- Shut up Izaya.” Watching as Izaya moves another piece, Shizuo furrows his brows, as if he’s going to be able to possibly understand what the hell the Raven is planning from just two moves. Actually, he’s not sure if he could discern a strategy half way through a whole game. “I didn’t mean it like that. I meant that playing board games is stupid.”</p><p>“This is hardly a board game, Shizu-chan,” Izaya returns haughtily, as if offended by the very notion. “This is a complex game of strategy. An in depth look at acceptable losses for momentous gains all condensed into an eight by eight grid. For you to call it nothing more than a <em> board game </em> is simply insulting.”</p><p>“It’s not that special,” the blond argues, moving another pawn closer to Izaya’s pieces. “It’s just moving pieces that do different things around until someone wins.”</p><p>Sighing, Izaya laments, “Perhaps if you were smarter, you’d understand the overarching implications of this game.” Ever so slowly, he moves his third piece. Shizuo watches with annoyance as his pawn is snapped off the board. “There is so much here, and yet you look down on it so easily. Really, I’m wounded on behalf of anyone who enjoys chess.”</p><p>Rolling his eyes, Shizuo mutters, “You’re looking at this too deeply.”</p><p>“Nonsense,” Izaya says. “You are simply too thick-skulled to appreciate the beauty of what lies before you.</p><p>When Shizuo jerks his head up to snap off a retort, he finds Izaya’s face is curled up into a smile. Not one of his usual cruel expressions but a look of genuine happiness. Like he’s not so much insulting Shizuo as <em> bantering, </em> encouraging a playful back and forth because he finds it enjoyable.</p><p>Contrary to what Izaya says, Shizuo suddenly does see it, and he doesn’t know what to do with the uncomfortable way his heart begins to pound in his chest, hitting pathetically against his ribs like it wants to escape. Not for the first time, his brain ceases to function, and for the life of him, he can’t get it to start again.</p><p>The little half-moon’s Izaya’s eyes have curled up into open once more, and he bats his eyelashes playfully. “It’s your turn.”</p><p>“Oh,” Shizuo mutters, as the cigarette in his fingers begins to burn his skin. “Yeah.”</p><p>Not that he was paying attention in the first place, but he’s definitely forgotten about chess by now.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Issues with the Shitty Louse; An Updated and Slightly More Honest List</b> </span>
</p><ol>
<li>Alright, so he might have fucked up somewhere.</li>
<li>Izaya still isn’t leaving him alone, which he’s kind of gotten used to. <em>This isn’t a good thing.</em>
</li>
<li>For some fucking reason, every time he sees Izaya’s face, he gets the urge to do something other than squash it. (Among those things is calling the man cute. Which is just- No.)</li>
<li>Izaya keeps wearing those short-sleeved shirts, even though the air-conditioning is fixed.</li>
<li><strike>They’re just small enough that when he moves too much, they hike up and show off the skin just above the waistband of his jeans and it’s <em>very</em> distracting.</strike></li>
</ol><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>Something very worrying is happening, and Shizuo is quickly realizing he has no idea how to handle it. </p><p>He’s still convinced he hates Izaya -that much he’s trying to stay sure of- but everything else is kind of falling apart. Because the moment he isn’t chasing the Raven through the streets, Shizuo doesn’t know <em> what </em> he’s supposed to feel.</p><p>He’s actually kind of frightened of the weird thumping in his chest that starts whenever Izaya’s looks become a little too soft and a little too doting. Before, Shizuo might have chalked this up to the man always condescending to him in every way possible, but at this point he’s not entirely sure. To be honest, it’s almost like Izaya finds him endearing, and just doesn’t want to put it into as many words.</p><p>Which is fine because neither does Shizuo.</p><p>Izaya has this thing he does now, where he falls asleep against the blond’s shoulder when they’re together. After the chess incident, the TV had magically started working again, and now they spend some evenings simply watching whatever show tickles the Raven’s fancy that day. Shizuo would argue, but he doesn’t want his cable to suddenly cut out again.</p><p>And maybe it’s more than that, because when Izaya gets caught up in something like a soap opera, his cutting words mellow out, and he has no problems with simply curling up against Shizuo’s side and getting engrossed with the TV.</p><p>There’s probably something wrong with him, Shizuo decides as yet another evening passes like this. He can’t stop watching downy soft raven hair brush against his shoulder, and he’s having trouble resisting the urge to run his fingers through it. Which is a <em> bad thing </em> because he hates this man, right? And Izaya definitely hates him back, <em> right? </em></p><p>The character on screen walks into his house to find his wife pinning another woman to the couch. Like a captivated child, Izaya lets out a gasp. “Oh my god, of course he’d walk in now.”</p><p>“Like he’d walk in at any other time,” Shizuo mutters, managing to quell the desire to touch Izaya’s hair once more. It’s a close thing but he manages it.</p><p>Huffing, the Raven shakes his head and shifts his position till he’s almost sitting in Shizuo’s lap entirely. “He’s going to leave her,” he bemoans, nibbling on his lips as he does. “Their relationship is already so fragile, they can’t take this too.”</p><p>Shizuo desperately wishes he <em> wasn’t </em> paying attention to the way Izaya’s chapped bottom lip slips from between his teeth, glistening slightly with saliva. Just like that damn lollipop. </p><p>“They should at least talk about it first,” Shizuo reasons, unsure why he’s indulging Izaya like this when he could care less about the plot or the characters. “They’re in love, right? Why the hell would he just walk out?”</p><p>“Oh Shizu-chan,” Izaya hums regretfully. “It isn’t that simple.”</p><p>“It can be,” Shiuzo insists, stubborn as ever. “If you care about someone that much, you don’t just walk out. And you don’t just let someone walk out without explaining things.” When Izaya gives him a <em> look, </em> he mutters defensively, “Look I know I’m stupid, but I’m not that stupid.”</p><p>But he is still pretty stupid, because his heart fucking <em> flutters </em> when Izaya’s slender fingers brush over his thigh, tracing absent patterns in the fabric of his sweatpants. Shizuo’s trying really hard not to worry about it, all he wants to do is focus on the conversation he’s having right now, not deal with the sudden bout of light-headedness that’s making it hard to string two thoughts together. Unfortunately, it’s not that easy.</p><p>“Normally, you’d be right,” the Raven admits after a long pause. “But love makes things more complicated, not less.”</p><p>The next words that come out of his mouth feel unexpectedly thought out, like Izaya needs to say them before he forgets, or loses his nerve.</p><p>“Easy decisions suddenly become unbelievably complicated, and it becomes almost impossible to think clearly.” His words are so deliberate, Shizuo feels like each of them are hitting him like a punch to the stomach. “You begin to behave illogically, saying and doing things you never would have done before.”</p><p>On the screen, the husband and wife are fighting. The wife is in tears, and the man looks like he’s had his heart ripped out of his chest. It’s not a pretty scene. Plenty dramatic, but Shizuo isn’t sure if he wants to see it.</p><p>Softly, Izaya finishes, “And that love falling apart becomes the most frightening thing in the whole world.”</p><p>As usual, Shizuo says the first thing that comes to his mind.</p><p>“As if you’ve ever been in love, Flea.”</p><p>For a moment, he expects a reaction, but all Izaya does is freeze for a second before letting out a rueful chuckle. “Ah, you’re right, I suppose I haven’t.”</p><p>It hurts.</p><p>He doesn’t even know why, but it hurts.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>What The Fuck Happened To Shizuo’s Life; Another Damn List of Problems</b> </span>
</p><ol>
<li>Among other things, Izaya has fixed his faucet and his bedroom door, and Shizuo still hasn’t figured out how to say thank you. At this point, he’s not even sure if a simple thank you covers it.</li>
<li>That aside, he can’t stop watching Izaya.</li>
<li>Every time the man is around, his brain short circuits and his heart does weird things.</li>
<li>Other problems include: His smile.</li>
<li>His eyes.</li>
<li>The way he laughs.</li>
<li>The way he calls him ‘Shizu-chan’ even after all these years.</li>
<li>Every time he thinks of the way Izaya said he’s never been in love, everything starts to hurt, and the only solution he’s found is a full pack of cigarettes followed by punching something. </li>
<li>Worse, he has no idea <em>why</em> he feels this way, he just knows that he does.</li>
</ol><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Shizuo Heiwajima hates Izaya Orihara because somewhere along the line, he forgot to hate the man, and now he’s desperately trying to figure out what the hell went wrong. </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Alright, For Real This Time: What’s Going On</b> </span>
</p><ol>
<li>Oh fuck, he has <em>feelings</em> for Izaya.</li>
</ol><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>It doesn’t take long after that to figure out why he’s miserable.</p><p>He likes Izaya, might even <em> love </em> him if such a word can be applied to the Raven, and Izaya feels nothing in return.</p><p>And now that he knows, he’s just waiting for the other shoe to drop.</p><p>Eventually, it happens, and even though he’s prepared for it, Shizuo is anything but ready.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>They’re arguing about something stupid, it’s all so dumb. But Shizuo can’t take his eyes off of Izaya’s mouth, and there’s that by-now familiarly heavy feeling in his chest and all he wants to do is shut the man up so his headache will go away.</p><p>“Look, it’s not even that big a deal,” Izaya’s trying to insist, his hands planted on his hips and his doll-like chin lifted stubbornly into the air.</p><p>“Will you <em> please </em> just leave it alone,” Shizuo begs, unable to even pretend to be patient. “It’s fine, I don’t <em> care </em> about it so you shouldn’t either.”</p><p>Every conversation with the man has become difficult lately. It’s like Shizuo’s constantly being crushed under the truth of what’s running through his head. Considering he’s usually the type of person to be up front with everything, keeping something this big to himself is difficult. And it sucks because he <em> knows </em> he's the only one affected.</p><p>Izaya’s been acting entirely normally. Or at least, as normally as someone like him can act.</p><p>“I’m tired of your refrigerator leaking,” Izaya huffs, pursing his lips and narrowing his eyes. “Not only is it an electricity drain, it makes your kitchen too cold <em> and </em> I can’t leave food in it for any decent length of time without worrying if it’s going to spoil.”</p><p>“Then leave the food in your own damn kitchen!” Shizuo snaps, gritting his teeth together.</p><p>Dismissively, Izaya waves one of his hands. “Well now you’re just being belligerent, beast. It’d be much easier if we just got you a new refrigerator.”</p><p>“It’s not even your fucking house.” His voice is bitter enough that even Izaya picks up on it.</p><p>“I don’t see why that’s an issue,” the man says slowly, as though he’s trying to figure out why Shizuo’s so genuinely upset about the matter. “If I’m going to spend so much time here, I want a working fridge, and I’m tired of watching you struggle to close it.”</p><p>“Why don’t you just go home then.”</p><p>The words are out before he can stop them. Shizuo’s just so <em> tired </em> of this. Tired of the obvious charade that Izaya’s putting up, pretending to tolerate him at night while during the day being the same shitty Flea as always. The blond doesn’t even <em> remember </em> how to hate Izaya, let alone chase after him with any real fire. He just wants things to make sense.</p><p>He wants his brain to stop telling him to do something stupid like kiss Izaya, when he should be imagining crushing the man into a pulp.</p><p>Brows pinching together, any air of levity gone from his tone, Izaya <em> tsks. </em> “Don’t be ridiculous, Shizu-chan.”</p><p>“I’m not.”</p><p>He isn’t.</p><p>He hasn’t been joking in a while.</p><p>“I’m not going home,” Izaya states, his hands slipping off of his hips to clench into loose fists at his sides. They tighten as the blond’s expression doesn’t change.</p><p>“Well I don’t care <em> where </em> you go, so long as it isn’t here.” Shizuo looks away at this point. His head aches, and the words coming out of his mouth are almost as painful as the silence had been. “Just fucking- Leave me alone already, Izaya, I’m tired of your shit.”</p><p>Defensively, Izaya responds, “I haven’t been <em> giving you shit </em> as you so elegantly put it, Shizu-chan. I’ve been trying to be <em> nice, </em> actually.”</p><p>“Is that what you’ve been doing?” Jaw tightening, Shizuo growls. “Because from what I’ve seen, all you’re doing is invading my apartment every other day and annoying me for the heck of it. This is a game for you, isn’t it?” He wants Izaya to tell him he’s wrong, to tell him that they’re friends, or at least not enemies. Tell him that he should shut up and go watch TV and not think about everything so hard.</p><p>But he doesn’t. The Raven is damningly silent. </p><p>After several moments of awful quiet tick by, Shizuo continues, his throat tightening to the point where he’s having trouble breathing.</p><p>“You’re just doing this to fuck with me, aren’t you? That’s the only reason you’re here.” <em> You’re just waiting for me to crack. For me to admit that I don’t hate you anymore. So you can laugh, and call me an idiot, just like you’ve done for years before. </em> “And once you’ve gotten tired of it, you’re going to leave.”</p><p>“I’m not-” Izaya attempts in a brittle tone, but Shizuo cuts him off.</p><p>“I know what you’re trying to do now, so why don’t you just fuck off now and get it over with?”</p><p>He looks up then, and just as he’d expected, Izaya’s face is entirely blank, devoid of all emotion.</p><p>Shizuo wants to laugh, but it’s not remotely funny. “You don’t care, do you?”</p><p>Izaya’s expression doesn’t budge an inch. He just stands there, every muscle tensed, like Shizuo has activated his flight or fight response. There’s no response, no comforting words. No smile, or glimmer in those carmine eyes. No indication that he gives a damn at all.</p><p>Defeated, Shizuo feels the fight leave him. Izaya’s mouth finally opens, but he speaks over him, not wanting to hear whatever excuse the man has finally cooked up. “Get out, Izaya-”</p><p>“You’re unbelievably selfish, Shizuo.”</p><p>“-Because you spending time with me like this is making it really fucking hard to hate you,” he finishes, through gritted teeth.</p><p>Both of them stare at one another for a second longer, then Izaya lifts his chin into the air resolutely, and with sharp, measured footsteps, he walks to the door, grabs his coat, and vanishes into the summer air without another word.</p><p>Standing there alone in his kitchen, Shizuo thinks he feels something break, but he’s not sure if it’s his heart, or the counter-top under his fingers.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>He doesn’t come back. Shizuo doesn’t bother looking for him.</p><p>Among other things, he starts buying his own milk again.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> Shizuo Heiwajima hates Izaya Orihara because he’s fallen completely and irrevocably in love with the man, and now he’s driven Izaya away because he didn’t want the man to drive him away first. </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>He finally gets his fridge fixed. </p><p>Izaya was right, he needed the whole thing replaced. It turns out to be an absolute chore. It’s no trouble at all to <em> move </em> the damn thing, but he ends up breaking his front door trying to get the old appliance out, and he almost breaks the new fridge as he tries to bring it in. Kadota comes over to try and help him install it, but the whole thing ends up a mess, and by the end of it, he’s exhausted, frustrated, and no amount of air-conditioning helps how overheated he feels.</p><p>His fridge is working. But he’s already dented the door of this one, and he’s sure that before long, it won’t close properly either.</p><p>Miserable, he sits in the middle of his kitchen on the floor, covered in dust and bits of drywall, and stares at the brand new appliance. He wants to be happy. For the first time all summer, he’s accomplished something on his own. It’s almost productive.</p><p>But he isn’t happy.</p><p>The only thing he can think about is Izaya, and the only words he can hear are, <em> You’re incredibly selfish, Shizuo. </em></p><p>And he wonders, insomuch as he can without getting yet another headache, whether he fucked up.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>The gallon of milk he’d bought goes bad, and he doesn’t bother to throw it away.</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>
  <span class="u"> <b>Reasons Why Shizuo Is Miserable; A List In Order Of Importance</b> </span>
</p><ol>
<li>Izaya</li>
<li>Probably a whole host of other reasons, but he isn’t in the mood to name them all because that first issue is so much bigger.</li>
<li>His air-conditioning is broken again.</li>
</ol><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p>It takes two weeks, <em> exactly </em> two weeks.</p><p>He’s not entirely sure, but Shizuo’s convinced it’s to the minute.</p><p>One second, he’s alone, the open window bringing a scant breeze in and distributing it unevenly through the hot apartment.</p><p>The next, there’s a voice drifting on that breeze. A soft hum. “The Air-conditioning broke again? What a pity. That repair-man did such a good job, I thought.”</p><p>Izaya’s sitting there on the counter. In one hand, clutched there halfheartedly, is a blade. In the other he holds several kabobs of an unknown grilled meat. It’s such a familiar scene, Shizuo wonders for a moment if he’s experiencing deja vu.</p><p>He struggles to form a coherent thought.</p><p>Izaya has yet to look at him, almost like he’s afraid. Which is ridiculous. The Raven doesn’t get afraid. </p><p>But Shizuo does. Suddenly, he’s terrified because he hadn’t expected this and doesn’t know what to do. No one told him this would be happening, he’s owed at least some form of warning, right?</p><p>Very slowly, he moves forward.</p><p>“What are you doing here?” The words might have sounded aggressive, but when Shizuo says them, he feels like he’s genuinely begging Izaya for a reason. Anything he can cling to.</p><p>Heavily, Izaya swallows, and maybe it’s Shizuo’s imagination, but his crimson eyes go glassy. “I don’t know,” he breathes, and it’s the most honest and sincere the blond has ever seen him. Even though he thought his heart couldn’t get any worse, Shizuo feels it break all over again.</p><p>“I just-” He pauses, and nibbles on his lips, which look like he’s been biting them far too much. “Just thought I’d bring you some food. Or something.” Faltering, he continues, “You- you know I usually don’t enjoy this sort of thing, but once in a while, it’s nice to eat commoner food and- And not think about things so hard.”</p><p>Shizuo doesn’t take one of the skewers. No, he crosses the distance between them and takes them all, before setting them aside on the counter, not really caring that the sauce is getting everywhere. Izaya stares at them with panic in his eyes, like that was his <em> only </em> reason for coming here and without it he doesn’t know what to do.</p><p>Desperately, Shizuo wants to comfort the man, but he isn’t sure how when his heart is thumping in his throat and his hands have gone numb.</p><p>“Look,” Izaya says quickly, almost stumbling over his words as he tries to force them out of his mouth. “If you’re going to throw me out I at least want to know <em> why </em> you’re doing it.”</p><p>“Izaya-” Shizuo tries, but his voice hardly comes out above a whisper.</p><p>“Which is why I’m here,” Izaya continues, ignoring him. The more he talks, the glassier his eyes get, and the more frantic his tone becomes. “To give you a reason. Because last time you were so- So intent on finding one. Not that you needed one in the end.”</p><p><em> “Izaya,” </em> Shizuo attempts again, more force in his words this time. He’s so close to Izaya that he’s practically boxing the man in against the counter.</p><p>Once again, he’s talked over, like Izaya can’t stop himself. “I think maybe you already know, and that’s why you wanted me to leave.” His knife is so loose in his fingers that it falls out, clattering to the countertop. He doesn’t pick it up, he just keeps spewing words like they physically pain him to say. “I understand why you’d be disgusted, I mean, <em> it’s me </em> of all people. Ne, I’d be disgusted too. Obviously just buying you dinner and watching TV with you wasn’t going to change that, I’m quite foolish for thinking it would.”</p><p>He sounds so broken, just as broken as Shizuo feels.</p><p>“I didn’t mean for it to change everything.”</p><p>Without thinking, he catches Izaya’s wrists in his hands, keeping the man from escaping, not that the Raven seems to have any intention of doing so.</p><p>“But I think I messed up somewhere along the way, Shizu-chan. Because I’m supposed to hate you, but I don’t. I- I actually-”</p><p>It’s Shizuo’s turn to finally interrupt. Because he gets it, understands better than he thinks he ever has before.</p><p>“I like you, Izaya.”</p><p>The man looks so incredibly lost.</p><p>A full shudder works itself from his body.</p><p>Shizuo feels it, but not through the wrists still clutched in his hands. No, he feels it through his mouth, where he’s connected his lips to Izaya’s.</p><p>The man relaxes, finally, and Shizuo pretends he doesn’t feel the tears that drip down the other’s cheeks. There are other things to focus on, after all. Like the fingers that find the front of his shirt, and the shaky breath that escapes Izaya as he presses himself closer.</p><p>“It’s too hot for this, Shizu-chan,” Izaya murmurs, once he’s gotten his bearings back.</p><p>Shizuo just snorts. “Whatever Flea.”</p><p> </p><p>&gt;=&lt;&gt;=&lt;</p><p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
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    <em> Shizuo Heiwajima hates Izaya Orihara because they’re both idiots, and really, this whole thing could have been avoided completely if they’d just talked about it like mature adults, but it’s okay now, because he’s out of lists, and finally, everything is alright. </em>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Okay, I usually hate my own writing, yeah? But I'm unironically really happy with how this story turned out.</p><p>I hope you like it FridgeDude. I did my best to follow the prompt but I know I got a little lost there somewhere.</p><p>Now for real this time, The Trouble with Soulmates. I'm gonna finish chapter 14.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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